


Hands

by fiveainley_ohmy



Series: Holidays [3]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Academy Era, Drunk Spock, First Kiss, Karaoke, M/M, Motorcycles, New Year's Eve, Parties, Vulcan Kisses, holiday fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-24 03:42:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13205142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiveainley_ohmy/pseuds/fiveainley_ohmy
Summary: Spock comes to Earth to spend New Year’s with Jim.





	Hands

Jim opened the door and smiled widely. “You're here!” he proclaimed, his hazel eyes seeming to light up behind his frames, in Spock's opinion. “Come in!”

“Hello, Jim,” said Spock, stepping inside the small, cozy Iowan home, grateful to be out of the bitter cold. He was glad for his knit toque and long hair to cover his pointed ears.

“Jimmy? Is he here?” Another man, who looked similar to Jim, although he had a mustache and wasn't nearly as physically appealing as him, poked his head out into the front hall. The man smiled warmly, approaching them. “Hi, you must be Spock. I'm Samuel Kirk, Jim’s older brother. You can just call me Sam, though.” He held out his hand to shake.

“ _Saaam_ , I told you, Vulcans don't touch hands. They're sensitive there,” Jim said.

“It is alright,” said Spock, shaking Sam's hand. “I am wearing gloves. Thank you, Sam, for inviting me into your home.”

“Hey, any friend of little Jimmy here is always welcome,” Sam laughed, rustling Jim's hair fondly.

“ _Saaam_ ,” Jim groaned again. “You're embarrassing me.”

At that moment, a lovely woman with brown hair and a very pregnant stomach entered. “Oh good, you're here. Almost in time for dinner. I made spinach quesadillas; I think you'll like them. I'm Aurelan, Jim’s sister in law.” She held up her parted fingers in the Vulcan ta’al.

Spock nodded, returning the gesture. “I am pleased to meet you.”

Jim elbowed his brother teasingly. “See? She got it right. Why didn't you?”

Sam rolled his eyes and smiled at Spock. “He's been so anxious ever since you said you were coming. He's been drilling us nonstop on Vulcan culture, just to make sure we made you feel comfortable.”

“Shut up, I have not!” Jim exclaimed, turning pink. He picked up Spock's bag. “Come on, Spock, I'll show you to your room.”

“You do not have to carry my luggage,” Spock said, following him upstairs.

“It's okay, I don't mind,” Jim smiled at him, “You're my guest.”

Spock smiled secretly at Jim's back. Ever so considerate.

It had been several weeks since they had left the Academy for winter break. Jim and Spock had video-messaged quite often during their separation, and Jim had invited Spock to his home to celebrate an Earth holiday called “New Year’s Eve” with him.

 _“It’ll be so much fun!”_ Jim had said. _“There's gonna be a party, with drinking and dancing and fireworks. You'll have a blast!”_

Sarek had originally been against Spock going to stay with Jim ( _“Earth is three star systems away. It would be illogical for you to spend two nights there when it would take twice as long to travel there from Vulcan, and the same amount of time to return.”_ ), but eventually, he consented. Spock suspected his mother had stepped in on his behalf, for which he was secretly grateful.

Jim opened the door to a small, well kept, and to Spock's delight, _warm_ room. “I hope you like it here. My room’s right next door, if you need anything. We have to share a bathroom, but don't worry, I'm not _too_ much of a slob.” Jim grinned self-deprecatingly.

“Thank you, Jim, I'm sure I will be quite content.” Spock shed his winter wear and laid them out on the bed.

“Hey, you're wearing the sweater I gave you!” said Jim happily.

“Yes. I knew it would be quite cold here, so I wore it to stay warm.” That wasn't the _only_ reason Spock had worn the sweater, but there was no need to tell Jim everything. “It was a very logical present. Thank you again.”

“I know that's a great compliment, coming from you,” Jim chuckled. “I'm just glad you like it. And I _love_ my mixtape. You, my friend, have excellent taste in music.”

“I cannot take all the credit,” Spock admitted. “My mother assisted me in song selection. She has been exposing me to classic Earth music ever since I came home for the inter holiday. I find I am particularly fond of a group called ‘the Beetles’.”

Jim smiled. “Well, your mom sounds like a very smart lady. I'd love to meet her someday.”

“Perhaps I can bring you home to meet my parents sometime.”

Realizing what Spock had just said, both boys blushed, pink and green, respectively. Luckily, just then, Aurelan called them down for dinner.

“I hope you have not gone to any trouble to accommodate me, Mrs. Kirk,” said Spock as he and Jim sat down at the table.

“Oh, not at all,” said Aurelan with a nonchalant flip of her hand. “I've been trying to get these boys to eat more vegetables lately anyway, but they love their cheeseburgers and steaks just too much. Now they _have_ to eat healthy,” she said with a triumphant smile.

“Diabolical, isn't she?” teased Sam, giving Aurelan’s cheek a brief, affectionate stroke.

“It's not diabolical,” Aurelan retorted. “We need to start eating more healthy for Peter’s sake.” Aurelan gave her large stomach a fond caress.

“I told you, _she_ is going to be a Lucy,” Sam said.

“Uh uh,” Aurelan shook her head confidently. “This one’s a boy. A mother always knows.”

“I think you should name the baby James if it's a boy, and Jamesina if it's a girl,” Jim said with a cheeky grin.

Sam chuckled, playfully punching Jim’s shoulder. “One James in this family is more than enough.”

“Hey!” Jim laughed, pretending to be offended.

Spock smiled subtly to himself, feeling very comfortable and at home in the Kirk house.

After their dinner, which was delicious, Jim jumped up from the table. “Well, Spock, let's get out of here. We've got a party to get to!”

“Ahem?” Aurelan coughed. “I _know_ you're not going to leave all these dishes for your tired old pregnant sister to clean up all by herself after slaving away making dinner for all of you.”

“Oops,” said Jim, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Sorry, sis.” He began to pick up the dinnerware.

“Here, I shall assist you,” said Spock, joining in.

“Oh, Spock, you don't have to do that,” said Sam.

“I insist,” Spock replied. “It would be rude not to help, after such a wonderful meal that Aurelan took such care to make.”

Aurelan looked at the Kirk brothers with her hands on her hips. “You see how appreciative he is? Why can't you two be more like Spock?” she teased them.

The Vulcan followed Jim into the kitchen to deposit the dishes into the washer. Jim poked Spock's arm. “What are you trying to do, make me look bad?” said the human.

“I apologize,” said Spock, blushing. “It was not my intention-”

“I'm just messin’ with you,” Jim grinned. “You're doing great, Spock.”

“Am I? I have never stayed with a friend’s family before, and I am not sure of all the nuances of-”

“Spock, Spock,” Jim laughed, taking a hold of the Vulcan's shoulders. “You don't have to worry. I like you, my family likes you--how could they not?” Again, Jim’s cheeks turned pink. “You're so _perfect_.”

 _Perfect? Me?_ Spock opened his mouth to retort, but at that moment, Jim walked out of the kitchen, calling over his shoulder: “Bundle up, Spock! It's gonna be a nippy ride!”

* * *

Several minutes later, Spock came outside, completely covered again, apart from his face. Jim was waiting in the driveway. He had replaced his glasses with contact lenses, and donned a black leather jacket and gloves. He was sitting straddled on a most peculiar two-wheeled contraption.

“Isn't she a beauty?” Jim said, rubbing the handle of the vehicle lovingly. “I spent a whole summer building her from junk parts.”

“What is it? Is this our mode of transportation?” Spock inquired.

“You've never seen a motorcycle before?” said Jim in disbelief. “You haven't lived! Come on, hop on.” Jim patted the seat behind him.

Spock's eyes widened. “How can there be room for us both?”

“There'll be room, don't worry,” Jim said. “Oh, before I forget.” Jim took something resembling a thick, plastic round thing that was hanging on the handle of the motorcycle. “Safety first...it's a helmet,” Jim added, after he saw the bewildered look on the Vulcan's face.

“Oh.” Spock looked at the dark blue, egg-shaped helmet, then placed it on his head. It sunk down, covering nearly his entire head, except for his face. It even guarded his jaw. His hair, gathered at the nape of his neck with an elastic band, stuck out from under the back. “Like this?” he asked.

Jim smiled. “Exactly...you look adorable.”

Spock felt his cheeks heat up and wished the helmet covered them too.

Jim took a nearly identical black helmet that complimented his leather jacket and put it on. “Everyone laughs at me when they see me wearing this thing, but hey, I'd rather be protected than look cool. You know?”

Spock nodded, with some difficulty, thanks to the awkward helmet. “It is logical. Is your motorcycle...safe?”

Jim smiled softly at him, and it somehow made Spock feel warm, despite the harsh winter air licking his face. “Do you trust me?” Jim asked.

Spock nodded at once. “I do.”

Jim patted the seat behind him. “Then get on.”

Spock, somewhat unsurely, swung one leg over the bike and slid onto the seat, situated right behind Jim. The human twisted around in his seat and told ahold of the straps hanging at Spock's chin and secured them together. His gloved fingertips brushed Spock's skin, and the Vulcan suppressed a shiver. He counted himself lucky that his heart was in his side and not his chest like Jim’s was, for if it had been, the human surely would have felt it beating thunderously hard.

Jim then kicked some part of the bike, and suddenly it roared to life, humming underneath Spock. They jolted forward, and Spock instinctively grabbed onto the first steady thing that was available—Jim’s torso.

Spock was bright green now, his arms thrown firmly around Jim, Spock's chest plastered against his warm back.  
Jim smiled at Spock over his shoulder. “Hold on tight.”

The bike took off, and Spock clung onto Jim even more. The chilling wind blew hard in their faces as the bike picked up velocity. Spock hid his face in Jim's shoulder as they sped away.

“Isn't this amazing?!” Jim called to Spock.

Spock cautiously raised his head, shutting his eyes immediately to the intense wind. Despite his trepidations, he felt, somehow...enthralled. “It is strangely...exhilarating,” Spock called back.

Jim laughed loudly. “I knew we were kindred spirits!”

Spock smiled a tiny bit at that, shifting closer to Jim's warm, sturdy body.

* * *

The party was being held in someone’s barn, Spock found when they got there. However, he was surprised to find it devoid of animals. Despite the faint, sweet smell of hay, the barn showed no signs of being used for farm purposes.  
Jim handed Spock a mug of brown, hot, creamy liquid. “Here, this’ll warm you up nice and quick.”

“What is it?” Spock asked.

Jim smiled reassuringly. “Just drink it.”

Raising an eyebrow, Spock lifted the mug to his lips and sipped the warm beverage. His taste buds were immediately greeted with delicious, rich sweetness that the Vulcan had never known. His palate was singing sweet melodies as the creamy concoction cascaded down his throat, searing his pharynx, but in a bearable way. The slight burn was worth such splendor.

Jim smirked knowingly at Spock. “Pretty good, huh?”

“Jim, this is...the most appetizing flavor I have ever experienced,” Spock said in awe.

“Thought you’d like it,” Jim said proudly. He placed his hand on Spock’s shoulder. “Come on, let me show you around.”

Jim proudly introduced Spock to his friends, who seemed intrigued by Spock’s alienness—most of them had never met a Vulcan in real life.

“I’m sorry if this is embarrassing you,” Jim murmured to him apologetically.

“I am a Vulcan-human hybrid. On my world, I am considered an oddity. This is not a new experience to me,” Spock assured him. Besides, these humans did not exhibit the cruelty his own peers normally showed him; the Iowans were welcoming toward him, even if fascinated with his pointed ears and chartreuse skin.

Jim’s hazel eyes widened in surprise. “You’re not an oddity,” he said earnestly. “You’re unique, you’re _amazing!_ ” he blurted. Then Jim blushed, directing his gaze to his shoes.

Spock felt heat creeping up his neck, across his face, and up to the tips of his ears, and he knew he must be bright green. “Thank you,” he uttered softly, not really knowing what else to say.

“So, who’s our next victim? I mean, volunteer?” A man about Jim’s age was standing on the makeshift stage and speaking into a microphone. He seemed to be the master of ceremonies. His eyes scanned the room. “Aha! I think Jimmy Boy should take the next one.”

The partygoers turned to them and made encouraging noises. “Oh geez, guys, come on,” Jim grinned bashfully.

“What is happening?” Spock asked.

“They want me to sing karaoke.”

“I’ve never heard of that song.”

Jim laughed. “It’s not a song, Spock, it’s a form of musical entertainment...hey, I know. You should do it with me!”

“What?” Spock said.

Jim grabbed Spock’s wrist and tugged him toward the stage. “This is gonna be a duet, Troy!”

The other party guests cheered.

“Are you suggesting that you and I perform in front of everyone here?” Spock inquired incredulously.

“Come on, Spock, I can’t do it alone!”

Feeling somewhat lightheaded, Spock allowed Jim to coax him up on the stage. He looked out at the crowd of humans gazing at him. Spock suddenly felt ill.

“Alright, Jim and his handsome friend are gonna do one together,” said Troy with a wry grin. “What song will it be, boys?”

Jim considered Spock, then smiled. “I know just the diddy.” He whispered it in Troy’s ear.

Troy nodded. “That’s a classic. Good choice.” He handed off the microphone to Jim, then turned to fiddle with his equipment.

Jim pushed another microphone into Spock’s hands. “The pink words are for when I sing, the blue words are yours. The yellow is when we sing together.” He pointed to a screen nearby.

“Jim, I do not understand-”

Suddenly, familiar rock music, circa the Earth’s 1960s, began to play over the speakers. The lyrics, in pink, appeared on the screen.

Jim grinned briefly at Spock, then sang into his microphone. His vocals joined the guitars and drums. “ _Oh yeah, I'll..tell you something...I think you'll understand. When I...say that something...I wanna hold your hand! I wanna hold your hand. I wanna hold your hand._ ”

Spock knew this song. What a relief.

“ _Oh please_ ,” Jim continued, smiling encouragingly to Spock, “ _say to me...you'll let me be your man. And please...say to me...you'll let me hold your hand! You’ll let me hold your hand...I wanna hold your hand_.”

The next words were blue—it was Spock’s turn to sing. He held the microphone near his mouth and cautiously let out the next lines. “ _And when I touch you, I feel happy...inside. It's such a feeling that, my love...I can't hide. I can't hide. I can't hide..._ ”

The party guests were cheering him on. Well, Spock reasoned, he must be performing adequately.

The next lyrics were in yellow text, so Jim sang along with Spock. “ _Yeah, you've...got that something...I think you'll understand. When I...say that something...I wanna hold your hand! I wanna hold your hand...I wanna hold your hand._ ”

“ _And when I touch you, I feel happy,_ ” Spock sang again, feeling a shy smile curl upon his lips, in spite of himself. His nervousness was fading away. “ _Inside. It's such a feeling that, my love...I can't hide. I can't hide. I can't hide..._ ”

“ _Yeah, you've...got that something,_ ” Spock and Jim belted together. “ _I think you'll understand. When I...feel that something...I wanna hold your hand!  
I wanna hold your hand! I wanna hold your hand. I wanna hold your hand._ ”

The song came to an end, and all the onlookers cheered. Jim bumped his elbow into Spock’s arm. “You’re a hit, Mister Spock,” he teased.

“No, Jim,” said Spock, feeling a certain amount of giddiness as adrenaline rushes through him from their performance. “ _We_ are ‘a hit.’”

Jim laughed and playfully ruffled Spock’s hair.

* * *

The party continued throughout the evening. Music played, people conversed. Spock got another mug full of the delicious elixir from before...and then another...

Soon, Spock started feeling woozy. His eyesight seemed to be swimming. The Vulcan had never experienced such a sensation before.

Spock stumbled across the room and practically pitched into Jim’s arms. “Whoa there!” Jim said, holding him up.

The Vulcan flushed as his body pressed up against the human’s. “Jim...your arms’re so strong,” he slurred.

Jim studied him. “Are you drunk?”

“That may be a—hic—log’cal assumption,” Spock said, wavering on his feet slightly as he steadied himself. “What was in that bev’rage you gave me?”

“Well no alcohol, that’s for sure! It was just hot chocolate!”

So that was what chocolate tasted like. His parents had never allowed him to have any. Spock didn’t know it came in liquid form. He had only seen it in the solid bars his mother enjoyed on occasion, and his father very seldomly partook in eating a small portion himself.

“Choc’late is an intoxicant to Vulcans,” he said, feeling very warm and light indeed.

Jim groaned, smacking his open palm against his forehead. “Now you tell me!”

“Ten seconds to midnight, everyone!” Troy called. The partygoers murmured excitedly and began to move toward a large screen set up on one wall, displaying a feed of Times Square in New York City.

“Come on, Spock,” said Jim, coaxing the buzzed Vulcan over to where everyone else was watching the screen eagerly.

As a sphere on a needle, on top of a tall building, descended toward its base, everyone was counting down the remaining seconds until midnight struck. “...Five! Four! THREE! TWO! ONE! HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

Partygoers cheered, merrily blew into paper horns, and expended confetti out of small plastic containers. However, most of them were pulling their significant others close to exchange kisses.

At Spock’s questioning glance, Jim chuckled. “It’s traditional on Earth to kiss your loved one at midnight on New Year’s,” he explained kindly.

Perhaps it was the chocolate, or just the excitement of the moment. But Spock decided, in that instant, to do something dangerous. He steeled his nerves. Then he took Jim’s hand and brought their index and middle fingers together.  
Jim looked at him, surprised.

“This is how Vulcans kiss,” Spock said, feeling heat prickle into his face once again. He smiled imperceptibly.

Jim’s eyes shone brightly at this. His lips broke into a wide smile, and his cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink. He gently curled his fingers around Spock’s. “Happy new year, Spock,” Jim said shyly.

“Happy new year, Jim.”

Just then, their attention was caught by a loud noise outside. “Fireworks!” Jim exclaimed. “Come on, you won’t wanna miss this!”

Jim and Spock, along with everyone else, wandered outside, where the dark sky was being illuminated by bright explosions of color. Spock has never seen anything like it. He gazed in awe at the technicolor display, as the pyrotechnics boomed and lit up the starry blanket over and over again.

“It’s so beautiful, isn’t it?” Jim sighed next to him.

Spock tore his eyes away to look at the only thing more radiant and exquisite than the fireworks overhead. “Yes,” he murmured, staring at Jim as the vibrant bursts of light reflected off of the human’s handsome face. “Beautiful.”

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, more glasses!Jim and long hair!Spock ;)
> 
> I realize that timeline-wise, Aurelan wouldn’t be pregnant with Peter for probably a few more years. I don’t care.
> 
> Also, in TOS, Jim couldn’t even drive a car, but AOS Jim could ride a motorcycle, so...basically I want an excuse for Spock to hug Jim from behind while riding Cool Guy Jim’s motorcycle.
> 
> The party’s MC is named Troy because this is totally a High School Musical rip-off.


End file.
